


Unceasing

by trufflemores



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 3.17, Angst, Duet, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/pseuds/trufflemores
Summary: 3.17. After being shot, Barry fades and Iris rushes to save him.





	

Once in your life, something impossible happens.

Existence ceases. The next breath stops coming. The next song in your chest fades. The next look at the blue sky overhead fades to oblivion.

Barry stares up at the night sky and feels the sharp pain deep in his chest. His breathing feels erratic, and it is, and he is erratic, too.

 _I don't want to die powerless_ , he thinks, because the ground is cold and he is growing colder.

He wanted the lightning at his side. That was his Impossible, his once-in-a-lifetime. Breath laboring, he tries to focus on the possibility of making it and feels his strength wane. _I can't make it_.

Tears glass over his eyes. He didn't realize – he thought he'd be able to accept it. He was improbably oblivious to the fact that he would miss being alive this much, that he would miss his own aching body. He already missed tap-dancing, suspended in pure, exultant joy, like the past three years hadn't happened to him. He was powerless and Kara was, too, and for an hour they were human.

And now they get to die like humans do.

Barry can hear Kara breathing rapidly, but it's a distant thing to him, and his own pain is becoming a distant thing to him, and maybe-just-maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe he can go gently after all. He feels his breath starting to settle flat in his chest, leveling out. Just a few more minutes, he thinks, and every heartbeat hurts, but at least a few more minutes looms before him.

 _Close your eyes_ , he thinks, because he falls asleep faster that way, but he can't look away from the stars.

 _Are there stars after this?_ he wonders. _Does space exist?_

It seems jarring to think of a reality where he can't look up and find them.  He strains for a moment to sit up, to fight back, but he can't move, and the urge vanishes. _Wherever you are going,_ Charon tells him, _you can't take anything with you._ _Not even the stars._

He wishes he could. Or maybe just a song, or a smile, something to hold onto home for as long as he can.

Exhaling, he doesn't hear Iris arrive, but he _feels_ her, Iris' scream a sound he never wants to hear again.  _Iris, Iris, Iris…_

She rushes towards him and the world slows down, and he thinks, _I was so worried about the prophecy I forgot I might not be there to see it unfold._ There's a saying: life happens when you're making plans.

"Iris," he tries to say, but looking at her is exhausting.  His chest is numb, and he wants to go to sleep now. "Iris…."

She's sobbing and telling him to stay with her and _Iris, Iris, Iris…_ His head lolls towards one side, capsizing, and she frames his face and holds it, insisting on keeping him _there_.

 _You brought me back from the Speed Force,_ he thinks blearily, eyes less than half-mast, barely open now. _You saved me from Grodd._ _You comforted me after Zoom._ _You were always there._ _Always inspiring me._

_You are my hero, Iris West._

"I love you," he tells her with the very last breath he has.

Her hands are so warm and he is so unspeakably glad that he doesn't have to die without her.

 _You're not afraid of the dark, Barry._ _You're afraid of being alone in the dark._

Then Iris leans down and kisses him and Barry closes his eyes.

. o .

Then he wakes up again.  The first time, it took nine months.  According to Iris, he's only in a coma for about as many hours this time.

He absolutely cannot get enough of her.

"I love you," he tells her, leaning over her on the bed and nuzzling her shoulder affectionately. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He presses it against her jawline, feeling her fingers in the back of his shirt to hold him, her smile like laughter against his shoulder. "Iris, _I love you_ ," he insists because he cannot say it loud enough, even though his voice never rises above a whisper.

The ring on her finger presses lightly against his back as she pulls him down. He leans his weight on the bed instead, always careful.  He kisses her until he can't say _I love you_ anymore.

She says it for him because she knows, and he shows, and their impossible reality belongs together.

And with her, he has never felt so _alive._


End file.
